


Bruise

by inkstrain (orphan_account)



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7989433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/inkstrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was 4:11 am and the world was still sleeping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruise

It had been a while. 

They hadn't shared a hotel room in a long time, and it was a bit strange–a bit like putting an old and forgotten shirt on, the one you thought you'd lost but had just left buried deep under a pile of other shirts that had never been worn. 

Shower turns had been awkward as fuck too when they happened to pick their towels up at the same time, eyes meeting across the too-small room, the silence a brick wall in his chest. 

_You first._  
_No, it's fine, go ahead._  
_Really, it's okay._  
_Err, thanks then._

And of course it was a mistake, knowing how long his baths took. It felt like all their Budokan lives combined before the door finally clicked open, but there were no meeting gazes this time. Just mumbles and shuffling, men turned boys in six point two seconds. 

_Sorry it took a while._  
_It's okay._

As soon as the door closed behind him, he had to hold his breath: his lungs weren't used to so much of him anymore and the bathroom reeked exactly _that,_ of him and the stupid shampoo he packed with him during tours. 

He knew he had to smoke right after just to be able to clear his airways, drown the scent away with an old friend: nicotine. 

_Ran out of cigs, can I bum?_  
_Yeah sure._  
_Thought you quit?_  
_It's good from time to time._

This high up as they allowed their arms to hang over the balcony railing, the city didn't look like a city at all. Instead, it was the Milky Way: fathomless and ethereal, its lights twinkling like unknown constellations waiting to be named. 

Watching them flicking ash in orange flickers down below as they formed lightyears with just that one inch of distance between their elbows. 

Funny how the more they reached their dreams, the less he felt complete.

  


They managed to smoke the entire pack, leaving them with a single cigarette that they passed back and forth. There was nothing still, just deep inhales and gentle exhales.

Wisps and tendrils floating upward. 

Fading, wishing. 

Somewhere along the way, Uruha's hand found Aoi's, fingers seeking the familiar spaces that would fit them together as their cigarette smoldered before dying a slow and painful death. 

  


"Uruha?"

He kept his gaze outward and away, waiting for what was to come with bated breath: lungs black and purple with misuse, _protesting–_

"You have to let me go."


End file.
